


Never

by fishfingersandjellybabies



Series: Talon!Damian AU [8]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 20:29:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4235529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishfingersandjellybabies/pseuds/fishfingersandjellybabies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I found him, Dickie. I found the Talon."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never

**Author's Note:**

> Now that GTWK is complete, it’s looking like the Talon!Damian AU is my go-to emotional outlet. Damian doesn’t know Lincoln/Thomas is his uncle, so I had to change your wording a bit. Owlman hurt Damian because Damian didn’t complete some task, and then undermined his orders. He attacked Damian and threw him from the roof, then ordered him to find his own way home. The longer it took him, the worse his punishment would be once he returned. It’s not the first time Owlman used this method of training/discipline. Jason wasn’t wearing his domino under the helmet. Father probably takes place a few hours after this.

Jason didn’t know until after the fact. Didn’t even think about it, really. He never wanted to. Thinking about Damian only brought on endless frustration and the desire to drink all the alcohol in city limits. They were stuck, plain and simple. Had been for months. No more plans, no more ideas on how to get their bird back.

All he saw was a small child. All he saw was blood everywhere. All he saw was some beer-bellied sack of garbage gleefully beating him up.

The man leaned away at one point, smiling widely as he reared his leg back, aiming a kick right for the kid’s chest. Or maybe it was towards his neck, Jason wasn’t sure. Wasn’t going to wait to find out, either.

He swung down from the fire escape throwing both his booted heels until the man’s cheek. The man’s weight took him flying backwards into a heap of rotting trash bags. Jason finished his swing with a flashy flip – courtesy of those few days under Dick Grayson’s tutelage – and landed protectively in front of the tiny, curled up body.

“Whoa there, hombre.” Jason drawled. “Hasn’t anyone ever taught you only to pick on people your own size?”

“What,” The man spat, attempting to look tough as he struggled to sit up in the pile. “Like _you_?”

“Hell yeah, like me.” Jason admitted with a shrug, lazily pulling a gun from his hip. He pointed it right between the man’s eyes, showily clicking the safety off. “But I wouldn’t push your luck today.”

Behind him, Jason heard a groan, a few weak coughs.

“Hey, man. He was scaring away my customers, laying here like he is.” The man tried to justify. “Nobody wants to come to a joint with a dead kid right outside the door.”

“Right, right. So the most logical thing to do was to beat the kid up. Of course. That’ll teach him.” Jason frowned behind his mask, though. Because if this filth was telling the truth, then it sounded like the kid was hurt long before he ever laid a hand on him. That wasn’t good. He sighed, and clicked his tongue. “Hurry up and skedaddle, shitbag.”

“Wha…?” The man blinked owlishly. “You’re not…you’re not gonna off me?”

“As much as I’d love to.” Jason confessed. “I’d much rather waste my time trying to save junior here than kill you.”

The man took the opportunity, rolling ungracefully out of the pile and jiggling to his feet. Jason was almost amused at the sight, watching as the man waddled further down the alley, ducked into a door with an overhead sign that read _Martin’s Bistro._

He made a mental note to come by and check up on Martin’s business later. But for now, as the door slammed shut, he spun around, focusing all his attention on the little bundle in dark clothing.

And it was in the split-second before recognition kicked in. Before Jason knew enough to react properly.

“Owl…” The child – the boy, the _little boy_ – coughed again, curling tighter in on himself. “Owlman, I…you…”

Oh, _shit_.

Damian rolled slightly, looking over his shoulder. His face was a rainbow, covered in blood and cuts and bruises. Even in the shadows of the streetlamps, as Damian twisted, Jason could see more blood pouring out of his torso, could see by the way he shifted his legs that at least one was broken.

The fat man didn’t do this.

“You said…you weren’t coming back for me.” More blood dribbled out of his mouth. Jason stopped breathing for a second, he was pretty sure, as he crouched, unhooking his helmet and latching it to his belt. “You… _never_ come back for me.”

There was a little hope in that voice, and it broke Jason’s heart. Hope that someone, that _Owlman_ , actually cared. Hope that someone loved him enough to save him.

“Well then, that’s good for me, I think.” Jason whispered, pressing his knees into the pavement beside Damian’s torso. Blood immediately soaked through his pants, and Jason barely suppressed a shudder. He shrugged off his jacket as he leaned down, gently laying it over the battered body before pushing his hand under Damian’s head. As he did, Damian seemed to realize that his rescuer was not who he believed it was. “Gives me ample time to get you out of this hellhole.”

Damian jerked, tried to push himself away. But he was too weak, too hurt. “You’re _not_ …!”

“Nope, I’m not Owlman. I’m even _better_.” Jason tried to smile, tried every tactic of reassurance he was ever taught. “Don’t you worry, Owlet. Good ol’ Red Hood’s gonna fix you up, okay?”

Damian squirmed, but knew instantly it was a losing battle, especially with how quickly his vision was blurring.

“It’s okay, buddy. You close your eyes. You get some rest.” Jason cooed, pressing the emergency distress signal on his belt before looping his arm gently under Damian’s knees. “Just one last thing before you do, okay? Can you tell me who did this to you? Not the smelly guy, but before that?”

“Have you forgotten?” Damian mumbled, slumping against Jason’s chest. And it seemed he had already disregarded the last few seconds, the revelation of who his savior was. His breathing was heavy, labored. “Yo… _you_ did, Owlman…”

And Jason had to bite his tongue. Had to near bite it off to stop from screaming every piece of profanity he knew. That _asshole_. That good-for-nothing piece of _shit_. That _monster_.

“Red Hood,” His comm. suddenly crackled. Oracle. “I got your distress signal. What do you need?”

“I need you to open the radio line to everyone.” Jason growled, turning out of the alleyway. “And I need a car here, _now_.”

A few seconds. “Car’s on its way. Complete with one complimentary Batman.” Barbara joked. “Why do you need the comms open?”

“Good. Tell him to step on it. I have a present.” Jason explained coldly, glancing down at his arms. Damian was already out. Already dead weight in his grasp, and he didn’t even want to _think_ about that adjective. “Please, Babs. I need to make an announcement.”

A few more moments, and he could actually hear the tapping of her keyboard. “You’ve got the floor, Hood.”

“Attention all bats and birds.” Jason found he was only able to shakily whisper, as he now felt Damian’s blood seeping through his fingers, as Damian’s face remained blank in his unconsciousness, as he kept thinking of that term. Dead weight. Dead weight, dead weight, _dead weight_. “You are to stop what you’re doing, and take one of two courses of action. You are to either return to Batman’s cave, or focus all of your energy and anger at one Owlman.”

There was a brief pause. Jason could hear the roar of that famous car in the distance.

“Jason?” Dick asked bluntly, hesitantly. “What’s happened?”

“I found him, Dickie.” Jason murmured. The Batmobile picked that moment to skid around the corner. Jason looked up at it, straight at the cockpit, and gave a sad smile. “I found the Talon.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Other Talon!Damian stories](http://fishfingersandjellybabies.tumblr.com/search/talon%21damian)   
> 


End file.
